Their Final Blazon
by Templa Otmena
Summary: Oneshot Remus angst 'The reality of what had happened and what they had all lost was as real, as hard and as cold as the stone that the two he loved lay beneath.'


Disclaimer- The characters, plot and places of _Harry Potter _are the property of JK Rowling. This work was produced solely for entertainment and no infringement intended.

Author's Note- Long has my hiatus been from FanFiction. I have been here, feverently reading but not writing. This short ficlet was inspired by the poem _An Arundel Tomb_ by Philip Larkin. I drew heavily from what I considered to be some of the ideals expressed in the poem and in some instances I _borrowed_ one or two lines that appear in the prose that I wrote :) Enjoy!

THEIR FINAL BLAZON

By Templa Otmena

The scene was somewhat surreal, almost eerie.

There had been heavy snowfall throughout the whole of December. Days were shorter, nights were darker and every creature was colder. The landscape had changed so dramatically over night. The inky night sky had suddenly been sprinkled with specks of starlight. With every snowflake that had fallen the weather had imprinted its will upon the countryside, defying the greenest of hills and the darkest of forests.

Now, in early January what remained was a cloak of opaline white light. It was still treacherous to venture out into the icy abyss yet some found that there were some things that could not be ignored, that needed to be tended, events that had to be remembered and acknowledged.

And so it was this frozen evening that a figure broke the monotony of white. His small dark form cutting a path through the blanket of snow. He walked determinedly, never ceasing in his steady pace as he made his way to the end of the field that he had been trudging across.

To anyone that might spy him it would seem as though some mystical figure had arisen from their childhood nightmares. Truly, caped in a black cloak that menacingly swayed in the darkness and with his face obscured by the overbearing hood, he did portray quite the intimidating figure from which some might flee. In reality however he was anything but.

As Remus reached the end of the field he scaled the small wooden fence, taking care not to catch his raiment on the rotting wood. Once on the other side he took a moment to collect himself.

He breathed in the chilly air that burned him and released it in a billowing misty cloud. He did not make these trips often, not as often as he should. Today however was one of those times that, with no-where else to go and no one else to see he had had to come here.

It was Lily's birthday.

Remus sighed and resumed his trek. He had walked to Godric's Hollow from the nearest train station, which was several miles North. Resorting to the Muggle way had bought him more time; something that Apparating would have denied him. He had needed this time for contemplation in order to prepare himself for what he would face. He could not admit however that he had used this time to his advantage. It had been consumed with thoughts as dark as the shrouded sky. Memories had assaulted him and in reliving them Remus had numbly walked on, hating every moment of this pilgrimage.

At this point the young wizard drew his brow together. A pained and angry expression making itself known across his darkened face.

This is the least that you can do!

It was not that Remus considered it a chore. Never were James and Lily a burden. But it was at times like these that the truth would cruelly and harshly be brought home to him. The reality of what had happened and what they had all lost was as real, as hard and as cold as the stone that the two he loved lay beneath.

He was almost there now. Remus had been dodging through various graves, tombs and monuments effortlessly, so familiar was he to the path. It was he who had chosen the spot after all, it was all that he could do for them.

He had been denied Harry. Vainly had he tried to seek access to the boy but Dumbledore had insisted otherwise and Remus' lycanthropy had never left him in much doubt as to the outcome. But he had chosen this place, a quiet corner where James and Lily could forever rest in peace. Faithfulness in effigy.

Remus struggled to bring himself back to the present as he drew alongside the foot of their place. The memories had once again powerfully overtaken him and he had been there again. In those first few nightmarish hours and days that had followed the deaths of James, Lily and Peter.

'_Remus… I am so sorry…'_

A condolence whispered on a grieving breath. A consoling hand on his shoulder. It was all that Dumbledore could say and do for there was _nothing_.

What had followed had been the worst pain that Remus had ever felt in his life. It was as physically lasting as his transformations and was wrought within as well. He had felt as though it was impossible for his heart to hurt so much and he still be alive. It was inconceivable for a person to be in so much pain and still be able to draw breath.

But breathe he did. He had emerged so suddenly from the worst of the encompassing darkness that would forever shroud him as a waking nightmare. There was Harry to think of. Sirius…

At the graveside Remus blinked and inhaled harshly, returning from his sojourn into the past.

It had been four years now since his world had fallen apart and so many other lives had been tainted and destroyed. Four years Sirius had spent in Azkaban, victim to the horrors subjected too all of the prison's inhabitants.

Remus neglected to think of Sirius as often as he disliked venturing to James, Lily and further afield Peter's graves. When he did the pain of those early moments would return and he would feel as though he was drowning in cold. The memories would cruelly grip his heart, their icy fingers groping for every inch of warmth within him.

So much could never and would never be reconciled. So many questions left unanswered and wrongs not atoned.

Resigning himself to his dark thoughts the young wizard sighed and crouched before Lily and James' headstone.

Four years…

So short in the measure of a lifetime.

It was today that Lily would have been twenty-five. A loving mother of a precious five year old child and devoted wife with so much to give. So much life to be had.

It was thoughts like these that would shame Remus. Since that fateful Halloween night he had lived a half-life, the irony of which was not lost on him. Every full moon the werewolf would take him and upon his return he would always be something less than human. Living from hand to mouth and day to day. He would frequently curse his existence and every time he would hate himself for doing so.

The first duty of life is to live it, and here he was squandering such a gift when others' had lost, no, _sacrificed _their chance for others'. This is what motivated Remus, what kept him going and alive.

Slowly he fumbled with the catches of his heavy cloak and as quickly as his frozen fingers allowed he retrieved the flowers, somewhat more squashed but thankfully as vibrant as they had been when he had picked them from the deep folds within. Looking down the young wizard grimly smiled at what remained of James' offering from a few months prior when he had last visited to commemorate his birthday. The dried buds had ceased to flower long ago but still stood, resolutely holding their vigil.

Remus gently removed them and with infinite care replaced them with his gift to Lily. He spent several moments arranging them neatly as he was always wont to do. James had always teased him for his perfection.

'Painfully perfect…'

Remus grimaced. That was what James had called it, never knowing how such practices would soon be employed.

Brushing this dark thought aside and finishing arranging Lily's flowers Remus sat back on his haunches, hesitant to chill himself further by sitting on the snowy ground. Once he was comfortable he made himself look long and hard at this physical monument, testimony that James and Lily had lived in this world and that stood as stony witness to their demise.

In Everlasting Memory

Of James and Lily Potter

Devoted Friends

Loving Parents

Once again Remus grew angry with himself. There was Harry to think of.

James and Lily continued and would always be alive in this world. While the air might change, when eyes would cease to read but look and when the endless altered people would come their sacrifice would be forever justified in the survival of their precious and beloved child who would do great things.

But for now, for Remus and for anyone else who might seek solace for such a terrible loss, this place remained just a detail friends would see.

Once again returning from the detour that his mind had taken Remus blinked back the tears that he had cried. For once, for the first time in so long the young wizard felt as though he had shared in some of the solace that this place promised.

Slowly he looked around, gathering from the bright litter of birdcalls that it was near dawn. How long he had crouched here Remus did not know. Lily would certainly have had a few choice words for him and he grinned at that.

'Happy Birthday, Lily.' He whispered. A smile could be heard in his voice, so pleased was he to be sharing this time with them.

'Many Happy Returns… James… You show her a special time…'

He remained there for a while, not thinking but drifting, resting his tired body.

Standing Remus drew in a deep draught of the crisp early morning air. Closing his eyes he basked in the first rays of sunlight that the small graveyard was bestowed with.

Though still dense it was evident that the snow would not last. In as short a time as Remus had been there colour was already sprouting through the once before unpenetrable barrier of ice. In the distance yells and screams of delighted children, making the most of what would soon be lost could be heard, travelling far across the deserted countryside.

As he stood there, absorbing his serene surroundings Remus felt the peace caress him and offer him a parting promise. In his love and gratitude he smiled and once more looked upon the memorial that he had travelled so far to see.

'Together, I hope you are well…' he whispered.

And with that Remus turned, black cloak billowing in the morning breeze and not once did he look back but enjoyed what this day had to offer him.

Only an attitude remains:

Time has transfigured them into

Untruth. The stone fidelity

They hardly meant has come to be

Their final blazon, and to prove

Our almost-instinct almost true:

What will survive of us is love.


End file.
